


Welcome to the Family

by RedTeamShark



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (They were both adults), Canon Mingling, Homophobia (Background), Lorelei Family, M/M, Past Teacher/Student Relationship, Song of the Lorelei, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: It’s a start. It’s an ember that has never stopped glowing from their old flame.





	Welcome to the Family

**Author's Note:**

> He’s from Deastok and his name is Lawrence, do you _really_ think I needed more of an excuse? Also man this thing snuck up on me and got a Plot™
> 
> Fun Fact: I haven’t actually seen Tary out on campaign 1 because I’m lazy.

There’s a ten-second beat of blissful silence that he knows precedes absolute pandemonium in their family.

Benicio laughs, a short, sharp bark of a noise, his hands slamming down on the table. “You--”

Into her cup of tea, Portia snorts her own giggle, trying to keep her face studious and failing miserably. “Really, Brother…”

Lucius holds it together slightly better, one eyebrow raising, his fingers touching the holy symbol around his neck briefly. “Her influence is far and wide.”

Next to him, Aurra actually maintains some composure, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards for only a second.

He buries his head in his hands, glares daggers across the table at Benny’s knowing smirk. “Shut up. Shut _up_.”

“Did you love him?” Aurra’s voice cuts off whatever smart remark might have been about to come from his twin, whatever teasing the rest of his siblings might be about to bestow. Fired from his tutoring job for having an affair with his student--well, more like colleague. Twenty-two and twenty-four, not exactly a scandalous age difference.

“I…” He feels the heat in his cheeks, buries his head deeper into his arms. “Yeah. I did. But there’s no way I’ll ever see him again, his dad threatened to disown him and have me killed.”

Lucius takes a drink of his tea, humming softly. “So you wait until he is no longer in his father’s control and you win him back. I do believe that you’ll have some… Divine aid in this quest.”

“Wait, your god helps people get laid?” Benny’s head snaps up, his attention rapt on Lucius. “Lucy, that’s fucking _awesome_.”

“I don’t think even divine intervention will help your case, baby brother.”

The beat this time holds until Portia snorts tea almost out of her nose, shaking her head quickly. “It’s good to have you all home. Come, now. Father will be expecting us tomorrow. We should rest up before we see him.”

To their rooms in town for the night. To their home on the morrow.

* * *

Home isn’t as they remember it. A great darkness has fallen on the Lorelei Estate, brought from Xhorhas. Brought from an affair turned deadly.

It takes time to clean up, the siblings staying to help rebuild what was lost. To assist their father in caring for their estate. Their own paths can wait.

Lucius leaves first, on a quest from his Goddess, a dream in the moonlight that says his calming presence is needed elsewhere. Aurra stays only another week before she returns to her solitude, to the embrace of her animalistic nature.

For the three youngest Lorelei siblings, there’s little else to do. Portia intends to stay regardless of what her siblings do. Benicio has never been one to plan for the future. And Lawrence…

He knows he should leave. He knows that as long as the Darringtons are in Deastok, as long as Howaardt Darrington knows his name and his face, he’s not particularly safe in town. And he’s seen enough death, fought enough battles for his life.

There are other cities in the empire or places beyond. Perhaps Tal’Dorei would serve his needs. Perhaps…

Despite the risks, Lawrence stays. He looks for golden blonde hair and a smile that shines like silver in the crowds of the market, the hope in his heart never quite able to be suppressed.

He does not find Taryon Darrington in the markets of Deastok, but… he does find a book.

 _The Daring Trials and Tribulations of Ser Taryon Darrington_ sits in the discount fiction section of his favorite shop and for one moment, Lawrence’s heart stops. He snatches up the volume, flips to the back cover and sucks in a hard breath at the sketch of the author, his eyes skimming the information below.

_Taryon Darrington is a famous adventurer of note and fame throughout Exandria. Born from humble beginnings, he has graciously and meticulously documented a lifetime of adventure and achievement in this volume, so that you too might one day strive to live a life as fulfilling and well-lived._

Oh, gods above, that is his Tary. He shouldn’t have held on for this long, but… Lawrence pulls the book to his chest, holds it close as if holding his former lover again. He turns to the counter, already fishing for his coinpurse. “Ah, excuse me, how much for this?”

The Elven woman behind the counter squints at the book in his hands, shaking her head. “That’s… two copper. It’s not a very good read, though. So overblown and dramatic… I thought you had better tastes than that, Lawrence.”

“It has… sentimental value.” He passes her the needed coin, tucking the book away in his shirt. “You’ll let me know if those books from Tal’Dorei come in, Liafiel?”

“The chemistry ones? Of course. Tell your sister I said hello, will you?”

“Of course.” They look knowingly for a moment before he hurries away, eager to return home and read his new find.

He shouldn’t have held on for this long, but… But this is where his heart lies. Lawrence stops by Portia’s room, lingers in the doorway with a curling smile until she looks up from her desk.

“What, Larry?”

Even the irritating nickname can’t pierce his mood just now. “Oh, nothing much… Except I went to the bookstore today and Liafiel says hello.” He sees the way her shoulders stiffen and his grin widens. “Will you not be joining us for dinner, then? Eating out, perhaps?”

“Did you get that childish joke from Benny?”

“Do you really think he could come up with that play on words?”

They’re both grinning as Portia turns to him, but her eyes turn suddenly sharp, her chair scraping the floor as she stands. She crosses the room to him in a flash, plucks the book from his arms and turns it in her hand. “So, what about this… _novelty_ has your teeth so white, brother?”

He pulls it back from her, attempts to wave it dismissively. “Even I need some pleasure reading now and then.”

“I’m pretty sure your twin has plenty of that hidden under his mattress.”

“Portia, that… is disgusting.” Lawrence frowns, tucking the book back into his pocket. “Don’t… Don’t mention this to Benicio or father, please?”

Her face softens for a moment, her hand patting his arm gently. “Your secrets are as safe with me as mine are with you, baby brother. Don’t wait up for me tonight.”

He makes it through dinner with Benicio and their father, passes off Portia’s absence as something she needed to attend to in town. Their father doesn’t question it, rarely enquries as to their whereabouts anymore. He knows they’re all capable of taking care of themselves, of taking care of the family. Benicio has been distant of late, his mind wandering more than usual. Lawrence supposes it will have to be addressed, but… Not tonight.

Tonight he eases himself into the library after their meal, stokes the fire and lights the torch next to his favorite couch. A servant brings him a kettle of tea and a cup and he thanks her with a smile, says that’s all he’ll need for the evening.

He opens the book, thumbs past the front few pages without a glance and begins in the introduction.

It’s trite, terrible, the sort of nonsense he’d have no patience for when it was placed before him as schoolwork. But in this moment, in this peace and knowledge that these are the words of a man he once loved, a man he still loves… Lawrence finds himself enraptured, his mind living out every described moment. The journey to and through the Nine Hells midway through the story has him holding his breath, oddly terrified for Tary’s life, though obviously the man survived to write another hundred or so pages.

He finishes the volume as the fire burns to low embers, the dregs in the kettle long cold, and closes it with a content sigh. Lawrence lies back on the couch, holds the book to his chest and closes his eyes. He intends to go to bed soon, to tuck this book away somewhere it will not be found by Benicio and only bring it out when he is alone. He intends to covet this connection, however tenuous it may be.

He does not intend to fall asleep on the couch, and he certainly does not intend to wake up to Benny sitting on the arm of the couch next to his head, holding his new book and tilting his head curiously.

“Darrington… Isn’t that the guy with the, uh, bridge… no, wait. Brigade. Yeah, the Brigade guy. I thought about joining up but he’s kinda… _fancy_ , y’know?” Benny snorts, standing up from the arm of the couch. “Portia just got back from her totally not weird disappearance and she can’t sneak worth a damn. So I figured I’d come find you and get you into a real bed before you mess your back up and get all cranky.”

Lawrence blinks up at his brother, trying to process the words. His eyes fall on the book and he snatches it away, face flushing. “Bed. Right. Let’s go.”

“Hey, can I read that some time?”

He can feel the heat crawling from his cheeks to his ears, down his neck into his shirt, cold embarrassment pooling in his stomach. “What? Why?” His words are too quick, too demanding, and he knows Benny knows something is up.

“I dunno. Bored.”

“It’s not a very interesting book. I doubt it’d hold your attention for long.”

“Then you’ll get it back sooner.” He feigns a grab for the book and Lawrence yanks away, nearly falls off the couch in his effort to keep it out of Benny’s hands. “Wait… you’re acting all weird about it. Is it porn? If it’s porn, you gotta share, that’s like bro code.”

“It’s not porn! It’s just…” Benny’s never going to piece it together, but he’s not going to give him any more clues than he already has. “It’s just something that I picked up while in town today. A little… diversion while my current projects are on hold.”

“Ugh, whatever. If you’re gonna be all weird about it, forget it. Come on, let’s go to sleep.” Benny doesn’t wait for him as he exits the library and Lawrence sighs with relief. He looks from the door to his book, before carefully crossing the room to one of the desks. He opens the bottom drawer, slowly removes the false bottom from it and places the book in there, tucking the shelf flat over it. That should keep it safe from prying eyes.

* * *

When they need their siblings, they come.

Father is ill. Portia sits by his bed as he sweats with fever, her eyes dark with worry. Benicio and Lawrence drag her physically to her own bed before she makes herself sick, find themselves sat by their father’s side. They drift off to sleep as he cries out for their mother.

When they awake, there are blankets over them and their father is still, breathing easily. Aurra sits on the edge of his bed, her hand on his forehead. Lucius crosses the room to them with Portia behind, folds his hands behind his back.

“We have a… dilemma,” their oldest brother begins, looking to each of them in turn. “I have spoken with the Moonweaver on this matter, and Father’s body is failing him. He requires healing that I do not have the power to provide.”

“Then we get it for him. What does he need?” Portia frowns, sitting on the opposite side from Aurra.

“He needs the woods,” Aurra answers, her eyes darting to Lucius. “The wolf body is stronger, it will defeat this illness and restore his body to health.”

“We do not know that.”

“ _I_ know that.”

Lawrence looks between the two, bites his lip. “What’s the other option?”

“We find him a healer who can restore his body… and keep his secret. We allow Aurra to take him to the woods. Or…” He looks down, his jaw clenching. “Or we say goodbye to our father.”

“Where do we find a healer?” Portia asks, her hand settling over Aurra’s.

“In Xhorhas.” Lucius closes his eyes for a moment, exhales slowly. “I have been… meditating upon it, since that night we met our grandfather. Studying more about our heritage. There is… a chance. A possibility. An item of power for the Dark Elves of Xhorhas and those that share their blood. It could be what restores father’s health.”

“And bringing him to Xhorhas could be what gets him killed. You’re asking us to place faith in fairy tales, brother, but we’re adults.” Aurra shakes her head, lifting her hand. “I have traveled the woods. I have felt the power of our bloodline. It has healed my wounds and destroyed sickness within my body. It will cure him.”

“We decide as a group. As a family.”

Silence holds them, before Benicio looks up, his jaw set. “The woods. The wolf is stronger than the human.”

Portia shakes her head quickly. “Xhorhas. Father has not embraced his feral side in years, it may no longer hold the strength that yours does.”

All eyes turns to Lawrence and he swallows, looks down at his folded hands. Both sides have a point. Neither option is a sure bet… and it falls on his shoulders to choose. Or… “We attempt both. We go to Xhorhas and Father travels with us as a wolf. We see if he heals before we reach the border and if not… We look for this cure.”

They all look between each other, nod solemnly. There’s no other options.

* * *

Aurra and Lucius go with Father, despite the protests. The Lorelei Estate needs to keep up appearances. Three weeks they spend on the ragged edge of nerves, snapping at each other, snapping at the staff. Benicio disappears into the woods after ten days. Portia escapes the house to town and her lover. Lawrence paces the house, restless, unable to focus on anything.

He finds the book again in the desk’s false bottom drawer, curls up on the couch with it and holds it. Part of him knows he’s only moving his worries for his family to somewhere else, putting his longing for Taryon Darrington to the front of his mind so that he won’t have to think of what could be happening in Xhorhas… but he’ll take it. He rereads the book, cover to cover, twice before Benny returns from the woods and corners him in the library.

“It’s been too long.”

“It takes at least a month to reach the Xhorhasian border from Deastok, nevermind traveling with someone who is sick, getting through the empire’s defenses, and finding where they need to go _in_ Xhorhas.”

Benny exhales slowly, his eyes locked on Lawrence’s face. “It’s. Been. Too. Long.”

“Do you wish to go after them?” He’ll go if his twin wants to. He would never let Benny face something like this alone.

“I don’t… I want to, which means it’s probably a dumb idea. That’s why I’m here and not running through the woods out there.” He finally eases back, rakes a hand through his hair and growls. “How can you be so calm about this?!”

“You think I’m calm? While you’ve been off chasing squirrels, I’ve been… been…” Living in a fantasy to escape the pressures of worry. He can’t admit that. Lawrence looks down, turns the book in his hands. “Lucius and Aurra will take care of father. We have to have faith in them.”

“You sound like Lucy, talking about faith like it does anything.” Benny shoulders past him out of the library, stops in the door and looks back. “But if you think we should wait… We’ll wait. You’re the smart one.”

Word comes two days later. Their siblings are returning home… with their father.

Lawrence is too relieved to lord this over Benny’s head.

* * *

It’s a celebration at the Lorelei Estate, a party for the family the first night their father returns home. He is still weak, but whatever had taken him has been vanquished. Aurra and Lucius refuse to admit which of them was correct. They sit up in the dining hall far too late, drink wine and finally bring laughter into the home again.

Lawrence should know better, but he’s never been able to hold his wine well and really, he trusts his siblings… So he slips his book from its secret hiding place, passes it among them and they all take turns reading it aloud, laughing at the overblown prose. Even if part of his heart is held in that book, Lawrence can laugh at it with his family.

They finally pass it back to him and he tucks it away, feeling the flush of wine and good news. Lucius hums in thought, refilling his glass and taking a sip. “It is rather sweet, however.”

That gives them pause, all eyes on their brother. “What is?” Portia questions, refilling her own glass.

“The dedication page.” He closes his eyes for a moment, recites, “ ‘ _With love to my family, of blood and of bond. With respect to my companions, of coin and of care. With dedication to my heart, wherever life has taken you'_ '. Succinct, endearing… and definitely about you, brother.”

Lawrence chokes on his wine, coughing hard. “What? No.”

“There’s no other mention of a lover in this book and it was written by your student from that summer, was it not?”

All eyes fall on Lawrence as he sinks in his chair, still trying to clear the wine from his windpipe. “There’s no way--he--I…” He drops his head to the table, groaning. “It was a long time ago.”

“He’s still in town, you know. Manages a brigade of adventurers for hire from the Darrington Estate,” Portia speaks up, her grin growing. “We should invite him for dinner.”

“Portia don’t you _dare_ \--”

“Lawrence.” Aurra’s hand settles on top of his head, ruffles his hair gently. “This could be your chance to rekindle that old flame.”

“I hate. All of you. You’re just the worst.” He pushes back from the table, looks among his siblings. “When father is truly back to better, we’ll have a dinner with _many_ guests of importance from town and perhaps we’ll invite the Darringtons as well. _Perhaps_.”

He doesn’t need to see their knowing grins to feel them as he retreats to his room.

* * *

They do look stunning when they all dress to the nines. Aurra in a flowing green dress, looking graceful and ethereal. Lucius in a navy suit jacket, his undershirt a soft purple dedication to his Goddess. Portia wears a sleek navy dress that shines like a million stars when it hits the light just right. Benicio bargains his way out of a suit, but he slips on a silken shirt from the distant lands of Marquet, a deep red with loose sleeves and an open collar that all the siblings have to admit compliments him. Lawrence opts for simplicity, black jacket over a white shirt, begrudgingly allows Portia to tuck a mustard yellow handkerchief into his front pocket. A spot of color, she claims.

The party is about as extravagant as to be expected of Deastok, high society mingling, drinking, discussing politics both local and far-reaching. Lawrence finds himself near the front hall, talking with the eldest daughter of the Hyan family (or maybe this is the Hyen family, he always gets them confused), eagerly listening to her speak of the new weapons that use black powder to fire projectiles. More powerful than a crossbow, she claims. He’ll have to look into it.

His attention is sharply drawn away by someone new entering the house, his breath catching in his throat. A little older than twenty-two, a little more world weary perhaps, but this… This is Taryon Darrington.

“Excuse me,” he barely squeaks the words out, darting out of the front hall, nearly crashing into Aurra as he flees for the library. Lawrence drops onto the couch in the far corner, groaning and burying his head in his hands. He _knew_ Portia was going to invite the Darringtons, but he never expected them to _agree_ to attend after he and Taryon were caught, he never expected… Lawrence sucks in a breath, trying to calm himself down. It’s a big party. As long as he’s casual, it’s fine. Just fine.

Or he can hide in here for the rest of the night. There’s enough of a crowd that no one will notice he’s missing.

His plan works for nearly an hour, most of his panic forgotten as he settles onto the couch with a book. Not Tary’s book, not tonight… He almost misses the sound of approaching footsteps, approaching voices.

“...really, you must see it for yourself, my words don’t do justice.” The door swings open and Portia leads someone into the library, her light steps shadowed by heavily footfalls. “We’ve been building the collection over the last few years, I’m sure no one will mind if you have a look around.”

“Well, thank you for that--” He knows that voice. He knows that voice and cold fear cements into him at just what his sister is _actually_ doing. Not showing someone the library. Bringing _Taryon_ here to--

Lawrence’s throat is frozen with panic, his body still on the couch. They can’t see him from the door. They don’t know he’s here. _Taryon_ doesn’t know he’s here, he’s fairly certain Portia has figured it out and is planning something.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” The door shuts and even across the room, Lawrence hears the sound of the lock turning from the outside. Damn her…! He inhales sharply, drops his book aside and steels himself to sit up.

Tary’s back is to him, giving him time to study the man his student, his lover, has become. Lawrence watches him closely, unable to keep the smile off his face. His spine is so straight, his shoulders upright and broad… He’s a changed man. Whatever has happened since their summer together, it’s brought a new confidence to Tary, a new… Manliness.

“Hello, Tary.”

He gasps, turns, reaches for his arm and in that moment Lawrence sees something else, something he never thought he’d find in the face of the bookish man who stole his heart so long ago; he sees the will and ability to fight, the kill-or-be-killed nature of a warrior. Just like in those fantasy novels he was so fond of. “L… Lawrence?”

“It’s been quite some time.” His approach is slow, steady, his senses on high alert. Like an animal, scenting something new and possibly dangerous in its environment. “How have you been?”

Tary swallows, slowly drops his arm and allows a more genuine smile to his face. The bright sunshine Lawrence remembers, making his heart double-time in his chest. “I’ve been… good. Very good. And yourself?”

He’s close enough now to reach out and touch him, wants to so badly… He keeps his hands to himself, keeps a smile turning up one corner of his mouth. “Also good. You know, I… I read your book. Quite the story.”

The flush on his cheeks sends them back in time, twenty-two and twenty-four, just figuring out what they feel and what it means and how they can have it together. Tary reaches out, pushes his shoulder gently. “Don’t tease, I worked hard on that.”

He catches the hand before it can retreat, holds it close and gentle for a moment, brings the knuckles to his fingers and plants the barest brush of lips there. “You’ve worked hard on a lot of things since that summer. Your family must be proud of the name you’ve made for yourself.”

There’s a look in Tary’s eyes, something distant, something that says the word ‘family’ no longer means the same to him. _Of blood and of bond_ , Lawrence remembers, releasing his hand, watching his face. “They are,” the man finally settles on answering, his smile growing. “I think they’d love to meet you, one day.”

They stay in the library, catching up, finding new things to talk about, until the party dwindles outside. Until someone (Aurra, he thinks, judging by the footsteps) comes to the library door and unlocks it. Lawrence sees Taryon to the gate in the hour just before dawn, hesitates at the road and looks back to the castle.

“This has been--”

“Don’t you dare let me leave without kissing me, Lawrence Lorelei.” Tary’s words are low, quick, his face flushed once more, but he leans in, hesitates just a breath away from Lawrence’s mouth. “Don’t you dare.”

Lawrence closes the distance, wraps his arms around the man and holds him tight as they kiss. He doesn’t quite see stars with it, but something jolts through him like lightning, something makes him hold tighter to this moment, this man, this thing that they can almost have again.

He walks on clouds back to his room, strips down to just his smallclothes and crawls into bed with a smile on his face.

* * *

Portia’s I-told-you-so look is not what he needs when he finally comes down for breakfast. He takes the looks and the smirks from her, from Aurra, from Lucius with growls and frowns, looks around the dining room for some sort of distraction from his siblings’ over-involvement in his love life.

“Where’s Benny?”

“He had too much to drink and almost got in a fight with the Hyen’s oldest son, so I made him go sleep it off in the woods. I expect he spent most of the night howling at the moon and bothering squirrels.” Aurra takes a sip of her coffee, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “And how was your night, Lawrence? You disappeared for most of the evening.”

“Ah, yes, that… well…”

He’s saved by Benny, breathes a sigh of relief as his twin stumbles into the dining room. Dirty, disheveled, mud on his face and branches stuck to his pants. Hopefully he abandoned the shirt before going to the woods, it’s really too nice to have been destroyed by the wolf. Benny drops to the table with a groan, rubbing his temples. “Okay I remember, like, two things from last night--did I piss off the Hyan kid or the Hyen kid?”

“Hyen. Their oldest son, Jacobi.”

Benny groans. “Then what I said to actually piss him off--”

Lucius sips his coffee, nodding. “You told him that… He wasn’t as attractive as the Darrington’s son.”

“Really? ‘Cause I definitely remember saying ‘I’d sleep with Tary like my brother did, but a blind prostitute wouldn’t give you pity sex.’ But hey, I was really drunk so…”

Lawrence lets his head drop to the table, groaning pathetically. “You’re all monsters. Tell me you didn’t.”

“I mean I remember doing that. And I remember… uh…” Benicio goes quiet, thoughtful, before reaching over and patting Lawrence’s shoulder. “Did you guys hook up?”

“No! We just--we just talked.”

He glares across the table when Portia giggles, shoulders relaxing with minute relief when she doesn’t say anything. Maybe, just maybe, he’s safe from their teasing. Benny’s an easier target this morning, anyways.

“You still into him, bro?”

“I…”

“‘Cause I mean if not… I kinda wanna try to tap that. You didn’t tell us he was really fuckin’ hot.”

“Benicio don’t you _dare_!” Lawrence shoves his twin off himself, standing up and stalking out of the room. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to you all dissect my love life!”

He just needs… time to think. To decide if there’s anything to move forward on. That… That’s all.

* * *

Aurra goes back to the woods, hugs her siblings goodbye and promises not to be far. She lingers on Lawrence, holds him extra tight and speaks low into his ear. “Don’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers, brother.” She pats his back, kisses his cheek, and leaves the Lorelei Estate again.

The rest of them stay close to home; work and study, worship and socialize. Lawrence finds himself in town, meandering towards the Darrington Estate, following signs about the Brigade. He’ll pick up some information, see if Benicio is still interested.

He almost runs directly into Taryon, dressed in armor and followed by some huge metal construct. There’s a momentary flailing, a near-fall before Tary catches him, holds him upright and beams a smile. “Well, greetings and salutations. Are you here for adventure?”

“You are… _ridiculous_.” Lawrence puts himself on his feet, brushes his hair back into place and looks from Tary to the metal construct. “Wait… you mean the giant metal man you wrote about in your book was real?”

“Doty? Of course Doty’s real! That book was entirely nonfiction.” Taryon pats the metallic chest of the thing, his armor clanking against it.

“Tary,” the machine grates out.

“And he was my official transcriber for my autobiography, yes, thank you Doty.”

Lawrence frowns, his eyes moving from Tary to the metal man before back to Tary. “Wait--autobiography?”

“ _The Daring Trials and Tribulations of Ser Taryon Darrington_ , yes. You read it.”

He sputters, feeling the world drop out from under him. “You mean that wasn’t _fiction_? You went to _Hell_?! You almost _died_ , Tary?!” His voice climbs with each question, nearly cracking as he shouts.

Tary smiles indulgently, patting his arm. “But I had many strong allies along the way. I really do think they’d like you, you know. I…” He looks away, the confidence in him waning slightly. “I told them about--about us. What we had that summer. They kept encouraging me to find you again, but… after how it ended… I was sure you’d never want to see me again. I let the best thing in my life at the time slip through my fingers, because I was too much of a coward to stand up to my father. I’m sorry for that, Lawrence.”

His hand settles over Tary’s, fingers linking with the other man’s. “I could have reached out to you, too. I’ve been back in town for a few years, since… Nevermind. I could have reached out to you. I suppose we were both convinced that we’d ruined this beyond repair.”

“Do you think we have?”

He meets Taryon’s eyes, his brows drawing together. Leans in slowly, presses a soft kiss to the other man’s mouth. It’s answer enough.

Meeting this new family of Tary’s is going to be an ordeal, but he can invite the man to his home for dinner. Introduce him to his own family.

It’s a start. It’s an ember that has never stopped glowing from their old flame.

* * *

He has… regrets about this. Lucius is fine, is a little smug. Portia is a little _too_ pleased with herself when he announces that Taryon Darrington will be joining them for dinner. Their father looks thoughtful, nodding slowly. Benicio nudges him in the side, winks, says he’ll go get Aurra from the woods.

He has regrets.

They vanish when Taryon arrives, however, and he escorts the man in, introduces him around the family. Dinner is more casual this evening, the seven of them around the dining table, a family meal shared in closeness. The staff has the evening off, Lucius and Portia opting to do the cooking. It’s quaint, tight-knit, like the childhood he remembers. Taryon seems to fit into this scenario fine, regaling everyone with tales of Tal’Dorei; adventure, heroism… and baking.

“Why Slayer’s Cake?” Portia asks, her chin resting in her hand, eyes rapt on him.

“Ah, that was the decision of lovely Lady Vex’ahlia. There’s a… Mercenary business, shall we call it, in the city of Vasselheim called the Slayer’s Take. She wanted to give them, and her friends who work for them, a gentle mocking.”

“Clever…” Portia smiles widely, nodding. “She sounds like an astounding woman. If you bring these Vox Machina people to Deastok one day, I’d love to meet her.”

Tary smiles, touches his hand to Lawrence’s leg under the table. “One day, perhaps.”

The family retires to the living room after dinner and Lawrence waves Taryon to join them. “It’s my turn for dishes, I’ll be out there in just a few minutes.”

“Oh, I don’t mind helping.”

The two of them, alone in the kitchen, washing and drying in companionable silence. Lawrence passes the last plate to Tary, exhaling heavily. “Do you think… there’s a chance of this working?”

Tary looks to him, slowly setting the plate down on the stack. His eyes are serious, face face thoughtful. “I think we can certainly try.”

“Then there are some things that you should… know about our family. About our lineage.” He glances to the doorway, steps closer and lowers his voice. “It’s information we’d rather not advertise to the world.”

“Lawrence…” Tary takes his hands, squeezes gently. “Your secrets are safe with me. But if it’s something you’d rather not share, I won’t pry.”

“Since when did you get so mature, hm? It’s… we’re…”

“Hey, Larry!” Benicio shoves the kitchen door open, grins as Lawrence and Taryon pull apart. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt when it was gettin’ steamy--”

“What do you want, Benicio?” Gods damn his flushing cheeks, now Benny really _will_ think things were getting ‘steamy.’

“Dad wants you to bring out dessert when you’re done with dishes. Which it looks like you are so, c’mon, hurry up.”

No alone time allowed. Honestly, this is worse than when Portia brought home a girlfriend while they were still in school… He fetches the pie from the window, gives Taryon a sideways smile. “I’ll talk to you about it later, I suppose.”

Their father likes Tary, a welcome relief that Lawrence hadn’t even realized he was worried over. He seems to take the man in almost immediately, treating him as another son. Every one of Taryon’s stories from Tal’Dorei has the man on the edge of his seat, his eyes shining with excitement. “Reminds me of my own wayward youth, adventuring across Wildemount and thinking we could save the world. But it sounds like you and yours actually did so on more than one occasion.”

“I don’t know if I had much to do with saving it… Perhaps just making it a safer place for the next generation of heroes to grow up.” He looks down modestly, much to Haldor’s amusement.

“The next generation of heroes… I suppose in that line of work, early retirement is the reward for surviving.”

It’s late when Taryon bids his goodbyes to the Lorelei family, the moon riding high and full in the sky as Lawrence walks him home.

“About what I was going to say in the kitchen…” He begins, his hands twisting together nervously.

“You don’t have to--”

“It matters. My siblings and I--our heritage… is tainted. Twisted. Our grandfather was a Drow, a Dark Elf from Xhorhas. We didn’t know until he showed up and… attempted to end the family line. Nearly succeeded. Our father, his own son, had his hand cut off by this man. This monster. And… his presence in our bloodline curses us, I suppose.” He looks down, exhales hard. This is slightly easier to admit to than the other thing, granted.

“I… see. Do you want my judgement for that? I have traveled the world, Lawrence, and I have seen much… I have seen the horrors that fathers can deliver to their children, in my own home. And in your home I see the love that fathers can give. The willingness to protect their family. Your heritage doesn’t matter to me, _you_ do. No matter what has happened in your bloodline, you are all still good people.” Taryon turns, takes Lawrence’s hands once more and squeezes them. “No matter your history, I quite like you for who you are.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, squeezes Tary’s hands back. “Well, that’s going to make the whole werewolf thing easier.”

“The _what_?”


End file.
